


The Pull of the Moon

by misszeldasayre



Category: Avatar (TV), Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dark, Bending (Avatar), Bloodbending, Drama, F/M, Gaang (Avatar), Gen, Horror, Kidnapping, Mystery, Psychological Drama, Psychological Horror, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misszeldasayre/pseuds/misszeldasayre
Summary: When people start disappearing from the second annual Glacier Spirits Festival, Katara suspects foul play. When Toph goes missing just as a blizzard sets in, the Gaang must find her before it's too late. Luckily, Katara knows how to make people talk. Will she lead her friends to Toph or spiral out of control?





	The Pull of the Moon

Lights arc across the midnight sky, illuminating the revelers below. The second annual Glacier Spirit Festival is in full swing, a small speck across the vast North Pole. But as Aang loops an arm around Katara, all she can focus on is the sound of his blood. It sings through his veins, thrumming with the same energy that bounces through his voice and limbs. It speeds up as Katara threads her fingers through Aang's, and steadies as his breath slows. What he says is lost in the red throb of his chest.

Deep down, something inside of Katara yearns to reach out and join the song, to conduct it measure by measure, to change its key. No matter how she tries to squash the impulse, it won't leave the recesses of her mind. It hasn't left since Hama showed her another way. But she never discusses it. Aang wouldn't understand. Katara can't forget the way he looked at her when she forced Hama to her knees. Gratitude mingled with fear. Fear of the monster she could become. Just thinking of that look is enough to shake off her invasive thoughts. Almost.

The full moon dangles low in the sky. The pull's always stronger then. Katara shivers, trying to expel the urge from her hands. She scoots closer to her friends around the fire.

"They haven't found him yet, the missing Water Tribe member." Sokka's words rise into the air with the smoke.

Zuko frowns. "It's been a full day since he disappeared."

"Do you think he's alive out there?" Toph now, her mittened hand intertwined through Sokka's.

"In the cold like this?" The set of Zuko's jaw is grim, his eyes black hollows in the firelight. "Doubt it."

Aang sighs. "The festival was going so smoothly until last night. I hope this disruption doesn't anger the spirits."

"Come on, Twinkletoes," Toph laughs. "This guy probably got into the cactus juice and wandered off into a random igloo before passing out."

Katara's not convinced; by the looks of it, neither are Aang nor Zuko. "Should we search the village for him?" the waterbender asks. No one meets her eyes. Toph shrugs.

Sokka glances at his girlfriend's hand in his before shaking his head. "Eh, they've already got people on it. Although his disappearance does remind me of the legend of the Black Spirit." He launches into a convoluted story about a missing warrior and the spirit who dragged him into the Spirit World. Though the fire is warm, the night grows old and Katara's lulled into a daze governed by her heartbeat.

"You think that's scary?" Zuko says, the growl in his voice drawing Katara in. "Fire Nation legend has it that long ago—

Katara's head swims. "It's time for bed," she interrupts. "Thanks for the freaky stories. Hope we don't have nightmares tonight."

"Not me, Sugar Queen," Toph cackles, following the group to their inn at the very edge of town. A small brown building, built of timber and insulated against the cold, framed by snowcapped mountains sprawling behind it, it's packed with Spirit Festival guests.

After kissing Aang goodnight, Katara walks down the hall to her room under flickering torchlight. There, Toph pauses, her hand still clutching Sokka's. "I'll be back soon, Sweetness. Don't wait up for me." With a wink, she and Sokka sweep down the corridor.

"Ew," Katara mutters, unlocking the door and flopping onto her bed. Alone.

The moon streams through the small window, highlighting shadows moving across the bed. Just clouds, she reminds herself when she feels her breathing speed at the sight. That spirit story sure set her on edge. She hasn't been this jumpy since Gran Gran told her about the Polar Seal Spirit who visits children who don't finish their sea prunes.

Childishly, she wishes Toph come in with her. Being alone provides the quiet atmosphere her dangerous thoughts thrive in. She stares ahead, refusing to dwell on the moon's pull. A painting hangs above Toph's bed; it's all Katara can see in the moonlight. Alone on the tundra, a wizened woman stands besides a polar bear dog, her companion. Something about the dog's eyes perturbs Katara, but she can't pinpoint why.

Clouds blow over the moon, darkening the room. There's a thump in the hall, and Katara's left clutching her sheets. A rasping, scraping sound echoes through the door. All this talk of spirits as they wander the North Pole tonight has unsettled her. Probably just a guest unlocking their door. Or maybe the innkeeper making the rounds, checking to make sure all is well. The jitters threaten to overwhelm Katara, but she focuses on steadying her pulse. If Toph was here, she'd smack some sense into her.

The moon drifts through the clouds— there's a storm blowing in, Katara observes. It bathes the room in a pale imitation of light, and as Katara readjusts to the shift, her eyes fall on the painting. Now the woman and the dog stand apart, no longer companions. The dog's jaws gape at her. Slaver drips from its teeth. The woman locks eyes with Katara, her mouth an open smudge of terror. The waterbender can't tear her eyes away. If she was the woman in the painting, confronted by a rabid polar bear dog, Katara would not cower in its shadow. One clench of her hands and the dog's blood would slow, its veins would twist, and it would be forced to stand down. That's the idea that frightens her most.

Thoughts spiral like snowflakes through Katara's mind. She's powerless to stop them. They settle in dunes, burying her under their fragile weight. It's like she's packed in snow, all quiet and numb except for the thump of her own heartbeat pulsating through her body.

She falls asleep facing the wall and dreams of faceless, growling spirits wilting under her touch.

It's the noise that wakes her, or rather, the lack thereof. Toph's characteristic snores aren't rocking the walls as the weak sun peeks through the window. Too early for her to be up. Maybe she's tired from her night with Sokka… Ew. Katara flips over and is greeted by the sight of an empty bed. The quilt hasn't been disturbed. The painting above the bed looks normal now in the daylight.

Guess things went well for Toph last night. Katara figures she'll see her at breakfast, making oogies with Sokka. Just as she contemplates trading her blankets' warmth for food, a knock at the door drags her from bed.

Aang's at the door, eyes bloodshot. "Toph's missing."

Dazed, Katara follows him to the dining hall, where Sokka hunches over a bowl of sea prune stew. Zuko's by his side, patting his shoulder with the grace of a sky bison and looking distinctly uncomfortable as Sokka struggles to hold back tears.

Lip quivering, he nearly collapses when Katara slides onto the bench. "She's gone."

His heartbeat chugs in Katara's ears, furious and beguiling. She pushes it out of her mind. "I thought she was with you." The words, sharper than Katara intends, bite deep into Sokka.

"She was. We were… you know… in the hotel lounge—"

"Ew." One glance around the table, and Katara sees she's not the only one grossed out by this admission. Aang's head flushes beet red while Zuko intently examines his sea prunes.

"Hey," Sokka protests. "This is why I didn't want to walk her back!"

"You left Toph alone?"

He straightens defensively. "Your room's just down the hall from mine. I thought she'd be fine walking back. Neither of us wanted…"

"Wanted what?"

Here, Sokka looks sheepish. "We didn't want to run into you!"

"Oh, spirits above. You let Toph walk to her own room at night during the Spirit Festival because you didn't want to face me?"

"You have to admit, Katara, you're kinda scary sometimes… Besides, Toph's not helpless. She could take down anyone trying to hurt her."

"So why's she missing?" Katara shouts. She's acutely aware of Sokka's veins expanding and contracting, the small twang each one makes.

Aang breaks in, laying a hand on Katara's forearm. It's supposed to be comforting, but the sensation irritates her. His fingertips pound out a steady rhythm; blood vessels stand out on the back of his hand. Katara shrugs him away.

"We have to find Toph," Aang says. "How are we going to do that?"

The table bursts into chatter, Sokka moaning in despair, Zuko formulating a plan to retrace her steps, and Katara scolding Sokka for his carelessness. She shouldn't, but if she doesn't, she won't be able to shake this nagging sensation that she sensed something wrong the night before, yet did nothing to address it.

"If we retrace her steps, we can look for clues."

"We should talk to the innkeeper."

"Maybe some of the festival guests who were out late last night saw her!"

"We need to split up!" Katara's voice slices through the chaos. "There's another person who's been missing for two days. If we don't find a lead, Toph could be gone for good."

Aang frowns. "Honey, I don't think that's such a good idea. We're sticking together for safety." Sokka nods in agreement.

Few things frustrate Katara more than being dismissed. "We don't have time!"

Surprisingly, it's Zuko who speaks next. "I agree. Let's cover more ground and find Toph faster."

Thanks stick in Katara's throat. Surprisingly, Aang and Sokka stop protesting. "So that's decided," Katara says. "Sokka, you're good at talking to people" —her brother preens here— "so you could walk around the festival today, questioning anyone who was out late last night. Someone had to see Toph leave the inn, especially since one of the biggest attractions of the festival is the Northern Lights."

"There were lots of spectators outside…" Sokka muses, stroking his hairless chin. "Lots of people to question."

"You'd need a partner," Katara pushes.

Sokka gives up the stroking charade. "Aang, you're more diplomatic than Zuko. No offense."

The Fire Lord shrugs. "None taken."

Aang turns to Katara. "Are you okay if we split up, sweetie?"

She smiles. "Zuko and I will investigate around the inn." As if this wasn't what she'd hoped for all along.

Aang and Sokka leave Zuko and Katara alone at the table. "Thank you for backing me up," she says.

"Forget it." His arms are crossed, eyes narrowed. "So what's your real plan? You may be able to fool Guru Goody-Goody, and your brother's already a fool…" He shrugs apologetically after earning a glare. "But I know you're up to something. Splitting up when someone's picking people off one by one isn't your style."

Grudgingly, Katara admires his perception. "We need to track down Toph, right? Sokka's just going to slow everything down. You and I make a good team."

"What you're not saying is that Aang would slow you down, too."

"Something's fishy."

"Besides Toph's disappearance?"

"Like Sokka said, she can sense everything moving around her. She couldn't have been surprised by an attack. It would be hard to take her down without a fight. We don't have time to question everyone attending the festival. I want to talk to the inn's staff, and I know how I can get real answers."

At this, Zuko's eyes widen. "I thought we decided violence wasn't the answer. As the Fire Lord, I can't be implicated in this sort of…"

"You understand what's at stake here."

His heart is steady, almost imperceptible. But it sings to Katara underneath a thick layer of composure. She ignores it, grounding herself in his golden gaze.

"We'll figure out where she's gone, then we'll meet up with the others?"

"Fine."

"The last time Sokka saw Toph was in the hall outside his room. Let's head up there to examine it."

The cramped hall is dimly lit. Threadbare carpet peels away from the wooden floorboards where the walls meet ground. Katara and Zuko stand outside of the room he shares with Aang and Sokka.

"So she would've walked along here…" Katara slowly steps down the hall towards her room, scanning the hall for any signs of mischief. Five doors down, and she's arrived at her room. "How did Toph disappear from there to here?"

Zuko halts a few paces behind the waterbender, kneeling. "Scratches." A few gouges are etched into the wall, as if someone desperately clutched at the wood to keep their balance.

The scraping sound.

Katara freezes. "I heard scraping outside my door last night."

A vein bulges in Zuko's forehead. "You what?!"

"Sokka's ridiculous spirit story scared me!" she snaps. "It was late and I thought my imagination was running away with me."

"Well, it looks like it wasn't your imagination."

"Thanks a lot. Good to know for next time." She regrets her tone instantly.

Zuko pauses. "Sorry."

"We're not very good at working together, are we?"

He shrugs, color flooding into his cheeks. "Let's find the staff."

They find a young stocky man behind the front desk. "Were you working last night?" Katara asks.

"Yes. May I help you?"

"Did you see a woman leave the inn last night? Short, green tunic, black hair."

"Blind," Zuko interjects.

"I can't recall if I did. So many guests stay with us during the Glacier Spirit Festival."

Katara frowns impatiently. "There's only one door to the inn. Anyone coming in or out— you'd see them. So tell me who you saw last night."

"I— I—" The man's spine stiffens as an invisible force demands he move in time with it.

Relief sweeps through Katara. After fighting this urge for so long, giving in feels electric. She bends his arm back, collapses his leg, and watches him twitch over his desk. "What did you see?"

"I fell asleep!" The man goes limp, quivering now of his own accord. "I fell asleep…"

If this man had been watching, Toph wouldn't have slipped out from under their noses. The thought to punish him snakes through her head. "What will the innkeeper say about that?" she sneers.

"Katara." Zuko's voice, stern yet unsettled. "Leave him alone." He grabs her arm, yanking her away from the man, through the door and into the falling snow.

Katara scans the North Pole stretching before her: igloos, wooden buildings, tourists crowding the tundra. "Her trail's gone cold," she groans. "Thanks to that unreliable—"

"No, it hasn't!" Zuko drags her behind the inn until there's nothing but white in her vision. "Sled tracks!" Sure enough, two thick sled treads worm their way across the tundra, away from town, towards the mountains.

Katara studies the grey clouds. "The tracks will fade fast at this rate, but it didn't snow overnight. They could be Toph's."

"Call it a gut feeling, but I think they are." Turning, he jogs towards the stables adjacent to the inn. Inside, an ancient woman hitches the last of a set of polar bear dogs to a mahogany sled.

She curtsies. "Fire Lord Zuko!"

"May we borrow your sled for the day?"

The woman's wrinkles develop wrinkles. "If this was my sled, Your Majesty, you may, but this belongs to—" An awful choking sound gurgles in her throat as her limbs twist at odd angles. The reins fall from her hands.

Katara strides by Zuko, collecting the reins and hopping into the sled. "We don't have time for pleasantries. The storm's picking up. Get in."

As the dogs take off running towards the hills, the wind whips Katara's face and snowflakes melts against her tongue. She hasn't felt this alive for so long.

"What was that?" Zuko explodes, white hot rage melting through Katara's snowy reverie.

"The tracks will disappear soon. If we waited for that woman to find us a sled and hook up a team—"

"Bloodbending her, though? Really?" Katara's surprised Zuko's hair isn't flaming. "We could've explained the situation! Offered her gold!"

"There wasn't time."  _And I craved that rush._ She hates the way she lost control back there, but really, she can't blame herself for taking control of the situation. They're one step closer to finding Toph, thanks to her.

* * *

"There!" Zuko gestures towards a flickering light above them on the mountainside. A few more switchbacks, and they arrive at the mouth of a dimly-lit cave. The sled forgotten, they dash inside. The narrow mouth of the cave opens into a cavern with a fire sputtering in the cold, casting shadows helter-skelter along the rocky walls.

Strung up by the wrists and ankles on a log propped over the fire is Toph, head lolling towards the flames. Eyes glassy, she doesn't respond as Katara and Zuko charge into the room. "Cut her down!" Katara commands.

Her eyes are fixated not on her friend whom Zuko's trying to free, but on the battered figure next to the crackling logs. His clothes are bloodied and torn, his warrior's tail matted, but Katara knows she's looking at the missing Northern Water Tribe member. The angle of his neck indicates that he won't be returning to his village.

She glances at Zuko to gauge his progress, to tell him about the body she's found, to beg him to hurry— and all the words are swept away like ice in the wind. Behind him, a figure rises up, cloaked in darkness, wrinkled hands outstretched. Katara gulps in air, screams as the figure reaches for Zuko. He pulls away just in time, Toph still dangling by a few loops of rope around her wrists.

This time, she really doesn't have a choice. Too far away to reach the snow outside, her water skin back at the inn, Katara reaches for the only source of water in the cave: her assailant's blood. It's harder somehow than manipulating the man behind the desk or the woman in the stables, but when Katara finally forces the bony hands to fold on themselves, the rush is that much stronger. All she can think of is stripping the moisture, the life out of this shadow fighting her friends.

So this is what power feels like.

A cackle rushes through the cavern. "So," a dry voice rasps, all withered grass and fire lily husks. "You try to control me? Well done, Master Katara."

Before Katara can respond, formulate a plan of attack, tighten her grasp on the hidden veins and bloody shadows— a blast of air ricochets off the tunnel and into the cave, knocking the shadow prone and breaking Katara's hold.

"Aang!" she shouts as her boyfriend runs in, Sokka on his heels. "How did you find us?"

The Avatar's face is drawn; he won't look at her. "Heard an old woman raving about a waterbender controlling her body. Wasn't hard to piece together and follow you here."

"Toph!" Sokka shouts, pulling out a hunting knife and helping Zuko cut down the last of Toph's knots. "Take her to the sleigh," the warrior tells the Fire Lord. "I'll handle this. Anyone who thinks they can mess with my girlfriend hasn't met my boomerang."

The papery rustle of laughter rattles Katara's bones again, and suddenly it's Aang whose joints contort unnaturally, whose air punch catches his girlfriend in the gut, knocking her to the ground. "I didn't mean to hurt you!" The airbender sounds like he's twelve again, caught unaware by a witch in the moonlight.

Sokka charges towards the shadow beyond the firelight, but grinds to a halt, a sickening cracking of bones and crushing of ligaments as he rotates to face his sister. "My brain has a mind of its own again!" he yelps before throwing his boomerang and lunging towards her, knife outstretched.

This time, Katara's prepared to meet him. She raises both hands.

"Don't hurt him!" Aang cries as he struggles against his own invisible puppet strings.

It's impossible to fight the urge to control every muscle, every vein in his body. "I'm sorry, Sokka."

His blood responds to her call, like a brother to his sister's voice. It feels so familiar, the inside of his body— so similar to her own veins and capillaries running for miles underneath her skin. A tug and a twist, and his knife-wielding hand buckles in on itself. His whole arm distorts, his chest warps, his stomach collapses. The rush doesn't come this time, only a removed sense of helplessness to stop her own gestures.

Sokka crumples to the earth, clutching his body that bends and crunches the way no body should. The crack of his head on rock and his strangled howl pull Katara out of her trance, but she's still frozen, left staring at the blood pooling underneath her brother.

She can staunch the bleeding and knit his bones back together; he'll be fine. But she's lost control, hurt the one she loves most, and as the shadow slinks away into the depths of the cave, as Zuko returns to carry Sokka out in his arms, as Aang guides her numb steps into the snowstorm, Katara wonders whether she's any better than the monster in the cave.When people start disappearing from the second annual Glacier Spirits Festival, Katara suspects foul play. When Toph goes missing just as a blizzard sets in, the Gaang must find her before it's too late. Luckily, Katara knows how to make people talk. Will she lead her friends to Toph or spiral out of control?

 


End file.
